


Lifeline

by Saber_Wing



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anaphylaxis, Assassination Attempt(s), Established Relationship, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Avengers, Protective Steve Rogers, Superhusbands (Marvel), Suspense, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump, Whumptober - Day 21: Laced Drink, allergic reactions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 10:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21117359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saber_Wing/pseuds/Saber_Wing
Summary: There was something nutty in Tony’s drink, he was deathly allergic, and he didn’t have his epi-pen.Steve was going to kill him. If he didn’tdiefirst.





	Lifeline

Tony knew he was royally fucked the instant he recognized the odd taste in his drink.

The Avengers had just wrapped up a particularly harrowing battle a few hours ago. One bad enough that it had captured the attention of The Secretary of Defense. Steve was off meeting with him, while Tony handled the S.H.I.E.L.D. debriefing. 

By handled, he meant sit back, make a few clever quips, and let Natasha do most of the talking. 

Nick Fury cleared his throat. He sat at the head of the conference table; eyebrow raised. “Am I boring you, Mr. Stark?”

Tony’s voice came out strained, smaller than he meant it to. “Bored? No. I am the opposite of bored.” 

Natasha was watching him carefully from a few seats down. There was something sharp in her expression, bordering on the edge of concern. But he couldn’t think about that now.

Because there was something nutty in Tony’s drink, he was deathly allergic, and he didn’t have his epi-pen.

Steve was going to kill him. If he didn’t_ die_ first.

Tony coughed, cleared his throat, but it didn’t help at all. He could already feel it swelling shut, and he placed the glass slowly back on the table. Loosened his tie with shaky hands. 

Clint leaned back, throwing his feet up on the conference table. Either oblivious to the sudden undercurrent of tension or choosing to ignore it. “Should have brought the suit. You could play video games while he’s talking, and nobody would ever know.”

Tony didn’t bother with a response. He was too busy _not_ freaking out. He struggled to keep his breaths even, cold sweat breaking out on his brow. He hadn’t had a reaction like this since he was a child, but assuming nothing had changed, he had a few minutes at best before asphyxiation was a real problem.

“Stark?” Natasha’s gaze sharpened further. Her eyes were shrewd. Searching. “Something you’d like to share with the class?”

Everyone’s eyes snapped to Tony with new attention. Took in the tense line of his shoulders. His increasingly labored, staccato breaths. There was alarm in their expressions now. Budding understanding. And Tony had to act, fast.

Soon, he wouldn’t be able to _speak_ well enough to tell them there were nuts in his fucking _water, _and he was going to die.

“Oh, no. Nothing.” Tony took a breath. Shaky, just starting to wheeze. “Nothing, I’m just…g-going into…anaphylactic shock. Anyone have an epi-pen?”

The room exploded into action.

Natasha was on her feet in an instant, reaching for the com still attached to her ear, Fury barking orders into his own device. Everyone stood from the table in a state of borderline panic.

Tony tried to recall how far away the nearest medical bay was on this tri-carrier. The answer terrified him.

He _was_ going to die.

Tony was careful to keep his posture straight, though all he wanted was to rest his head on the table. He couldn’t. If he did that now, there was a real possibility he would never pick it up again. His airway was almost entirely obstructed, his face was starting to itch, and the nausea churning in his gut was so immense, it took everything he had to swallow it back. But he did, if only just, because he would be damned if he was going to die, drowning in his own vomit.

Or die drowning at all. And _that _was a train of thought Tony would stop right now and explore never again_._

Thor lunged around the table, scooping Tony into his arms and sprinting out the door. And he appreciated that, though he knew even the God of Thunder likely wouldn’t be able to get him to a med bay fast enough to save him.

He didn’t envy the poor bastard who got saddled with informing Steve of his untimely death. Steve – who was likely still with the Secretary. With a detached sort of horror, he wondered how his lover would react, hearing that Tony suffocated on his own saliva mere floors away.

That was another unpleasant train of thought he would shelve now and come back to under no circumstances. Shouldn’t be too hard. From the way things were looking, he would only have to ignore that elephant in the room for the next few minutes.

He’d be _dead _after that.

Because his epi-pen was at home in his desk drawer, and Tony was an idiot. An idiot who could plan twelve steps in advance for an alien invasion but didn’t know to grab his lifesaving stop-gap device before leaving home. He swore if he got out of this, he was never going anywhere without the damn thing again.

It wasn’t fair. This _wasn’t_ Tony’s fault_._ All he’d done was take a drink of water. He was always so careful about what he ate. Asked for a list of ingredients before he consumed so much as a cracker from a cheese tray. And of course, the one time he assumed _water _would be safe was his undoing. Fucking figures.

It occurred to Tony, in an idle sort of way, that if someone wanted to kill him, they’d have been betting on that.

The world was starting to blur, spinning dizzily around him, and he wasn’t sure how much of that was oxygen deprivation, and how much was Thor, sprinting through the halls like a man possessed. Black spots danced across Tony’s vision, and he almost didn’t register it when another person skidded to a stop beside them. All he could hear were his own rattling, gasping breaths. He could feel his chest burn, his lungs bursting. Because they so _badly_ wanted him to breathe, and he _couldn’t. _

He was going to die. And the last thing he’d done was attend a debriefing he didn’t give two shits about.

What a way to _go._

Steve’s face hovered above Tony. That didn’t make any sense. He was supposed to be meeting with that government suit as Tony lay dying. The super-soldier’s blue eyes looked real enough, though, even if they _were _panicked.

Tony watched with fading sight as the Steve apparition pulled something out of his pocket and ripped the cap off with his teeth, jabbing it into Tony’s thigh.

The billionaire would have cried out if he’d had the air, because _fuck _that hurt.

Then he realized what it was he’d stabbed him with, as the swelling in his throat began to recede.

The relief hit him like a punch to the gut.

Tony dragged air into his lungs like a man starved, thankful beyond words. He collapsed into the warm, muscular chest in front of him. Trembling. _Breathing._ God, he would never take breathing for granted again.

He felt shaky, nauseous, _sick_. More than a little scared. But he could breathe. And for now, that was enough.

Tony choked, coughing as Steve rubbed his back. He blinked dazedly at the needle sticking out of his thigh, cocking his head. “H-How did you…”

Steve exhaled shakily, face white as a sheet. “I always carry one. You forget yours sometimes.”

Tony chuckled – thin, more than a little breathless. Steve had an epi-pen. Of _course, _he did. Leave it to him to be more prepared for the unlikely event of Tony’s death than _he _was. He sagged against him, boneless. “You complete me. You know that?”

Steve chuckled, a little winded himself, though the way his expression melted with relief almost made Tony _tearful. _

The super-soldier was panting, sweat dripping from his brow. Something about that struck Tony as odd, but his brain was still oxygen deprived. Moving at a snail’s pace. He couldn't put his thoughts together enough to understand why.

“I’ve gotcha, Tony.”

He shut his eyes, leaned his head into Steve’s cheek, and let himself drift.

* * *

Steve _had_ still been in that meeting with the Secretary of Defense when Natasha called him. There’d been over a kilometer, and five flights of stairs separating them. That journey should have taken several minutes at best.

Steve made it in forty-seven seconds.

Tony didn’t even want to think about what that equaled out to in speed. It made something tight and emotional flutter in the pit of his stomach. And he could do that mental math, no problem, but he wasn’t sure he _could _without bursting into tears.

He did the math anyway. Didn’t cry, but only just.

What could Tony possibly have done to deserve a man who loved him enough to outpace a _cheetah_?

Upon further investigation, finding peanut dust in a pitcher of water was as stupid and suspicious as Tony had originally suspected. Someone had laced it, knowing that it would be harmless to anyone who drank it. Except for any poor, unfortunate bastard who had a life-threatening allergy to it.

Luckily for everyone involved, that someone was astonishingly stupid. They’d scrubbed the security feeds but forgotten all about arrival and departure logs. The only agent who’d signed in with access to the levels needed to accomplish the task had been easy enough to narrow down. Though stubbornly, he refused to yield to the powers that be and confess.

By the time the doctors administered the actual fix-it for Tony’s allergic reaction – epi-pens were just a stop gap – Tony’s eyelids were drooping. He fell asleep at one point and woke later to Steve sitting at his bedside, stroking his cheek with a thumb.

Steve smiled from his chair by Tony’s bed. “Feeling any better?”

“Mhm.” Tony hummed an affirmative, reaching up to hold the hand cupping his cheek. “Right as rain, _mon capitaine_.”

The super-soldier’s azure gaze was as steady as ever, but there was something indefinable lurking underneath. Something hard, and cold. Uncompromising as the ice he’d once been entombed in. Steve seemed to cloak himself in it now. Used that frigid wind as effectively as he ever had a shield.

“You get a confession?” Tony asked, heart in his throat. To fill the silence, more than anything else.

Steve nodded once. Slowly, deliberately.

“He won’t be a problem anymore.”

Something about the way he said it sent a shiver down Tony’s spine.

Natasha told him later, with something akin to respect, that Steve never laid a hand on the guy. He had simply gone into the agent’s cell. Silent. Unyielding. And he never spoke. Never responded to his questions, or his taunts. He just…_sat_ there, unmoving. Unblinking. Unresponsive, no matter how much the man screamed, cried, cajoled. Outright _begged _for a reaction.

Steve sat there for three hours.

And stared.

_“His eyes,” _was all the suspect would say after that three-hour period, shaking. Stammering apologies through a deluge of tears. He gave them the names of twelve other people he knew who wanted Tony Stark dead.

He’d acquired information several well-trained agents couldn’t, without ever raising his voice.

Captain America was light personified. He was good and kind, with a heart of gold and a will like steel. He never raised a fist if he didn’t have to. Never used force to get what he wanted. Had his own moral compass and only crossed the line when he had no other choice.

For reasons unfathomable to Tony, he seemed to be the person Steve _redrew _lines for.

Steve and Tony? They were two sides of the same coin. Loved each other enough to overcome any adversity they faced. Tony was gladder for that now than ever. To be Steve’s number one fan, because he was sure he’d never sleep again as his enemy.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually did the math, and it makes my brain itch. But for Steve to have covered that distance in such a short amount of time – let’s say it was about a mile -- he would have had to have run about 75 miles per hour.
> 
> All hail the King of All Staring Contests. Yikes. Remind me never to get on Steve's bad side.


End file.
